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Authors: Wayne Greenough
Tags: thriller, Contemporary
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be damned if I’ll marry the Meadows dame. Has your brain gone around the bend? That won’t get us her money until she dies.”
“That’s right, my boy, until she dies,” repeated Turner.
“Now wait a minute. You’re surely not thinking of murder, are you?”
“Of course I’m not, Stacey. Quit jumping to conclusions. Listen to what I have to say. I had Doris Meadows come to my office two weeks after her uncle’s burial. I went through the usual procedure of reading the will and telling her the name of her uncle’s bank, plus a few other details. When all that legal nonsense was out of the way, she made the comment about wondering who would handle the money after she was gone. She told me her doctor informed her that she would most likely live only two more years, perhaps a few months longer at the most, because of her heart condition. Well, this took me by surprise. I mumbled a few words of encouragement and assisted her out of my office.
“Well, Stacey, right there the wheels in my head started turning. Old dame fortune had smiled upon me again. And with you practically out of the Navy, I knew the two of us could end up sitting pretty.”
“Now wait a minute, Turner. Something isn’t right. Doris Meadows is rich. She could buy herself a husband without any trouble.”
“Yes, she certainly could do just that. However, two things have kept her single. She’s shy and proud.”
“You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not, Stacey. Doris Meadows has never been out with a man. She’s terribly bashful and also very plain looking.”
“You’re talking nonsense, Turner. Appearances can be overlooked when a pile of money is involved. Besides us, there are surely more than a few con-artists sniffing around her that know she has money and they’re trying to get it. Is she spending it, living in a mansion, doing something that will let people know she’s a lady with money?”
“Nice going, Stacey. You almost hit the bull’s eye with your guesswork. Here are the facts. Several months before Matthew Hamilton cashed in his chips, he purchased a rickety old mansion that has an outdoor swimming pool, and an aviary. Being a bird lover, said aviary was right up his alley and Doris Meadows’, to where they quickly filled it to capacity with their feathered friends. They hired a cook, a housemaid, and a groundkeeper. These Doris Meadows still employs.”
Turner paused to sip whiskey. He reached for a fresh cigar and smiled. “Okay, to squash the doubt written on your kisser, my further snooping around discovered that no one seems to be aware of her inheritance. People think she gets her money from paintings. She’s a successful artist, makes about fifty grand a year. And there is no danger of anybody trying to marry her for her property. It’s the white elephant type, been on the no sale market for five years until old man Hamilton came along.”
“Okay, Turner, so far you’ve covered most of the angles. But here’s the big one. What makes you think she’ll tumble for me?”
“Oh hell, Stacey, you know damn will she’ll fall for you. Didn’t you once tell me that all women drip between their legs the moment they see you?”
Stacey laughed. “Yeah, I said that. I might have been bragging a little. Okay, so how do I meet the lady in what appears to be a normal way?”
Turner frowned. “At the moment I’m stymied. I’ll pay her a visit on the pretense that I have more legal bull con to talk over with her. Some angle we can use to get you on her doorstep might turn up for us. Right now, we need to get you situated. Grab your coat and bags. I’m taking you to a swank apartment. Once there we’ll prepare you for the courting of Doris Meadows.”
After a week of watching television soap operas, twiddling his thumbs, attempting to figure out crossword puzzles while guzzling whiskey, Stacey was next door to going nuts. Turner hadn’t stopped by or even called him on the phone. Where in the hell was
“That’s right, my boy, until she dies,” repeated Turner.
“Now wait a minute. You’re surely not thinking of murder, are you?”
“Of course I’m not, Stacey. Quit jumping to conclusions. Listen to what I have to say. I had Doris Meadows come to my office two weeks after her uncle’s burial. I went through the usual procedure of reading the will and telling her the name of her uncle’s bank, plus a few other details. When all that legal nonsense was out of the way, she made the comment about wondering who would handle the money after she was gone. She told me her doctor informed her that she would most likely live only two more years, perhaps a few months longer at the most, because of her heart condition. Well, this took me by surprise. I mumbled a few words of encouragement and assisted her out of my office.
“Well, Stacey, right there the wheels in my head started turning. Old dame fortune had smiled upon me again. And with you practically out of the Navy, I knew the two of us could end up sitting pretty.”
“Now wait a minute, Turner. Something isn’t right. Doris Meadows is rich. She could buy herself a husband without any trouble.”
“Yes, she certainly could do just that. However, two things have kept her single. She’s shy and proud.”
“You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not, Stacey. Doris Meadows has never been out with a man. She’s terribly bashful and also very plain looking.”
“You’re talking nonsense, Turner. Appearances can be overlooked when a pile of money is involved. Besides us, there are surely more than a few con-artists sniffing around her that know she has money and they’re trying to get it. Is she spending it, living in a mansion, doing something that will let people know she’s a lady with money?”
“Nice going, Stacey. You almost hit the bull’s eye with your guesswork. Here are the facts. Several months before Matthew Hamilton cashed in his chips, he purchased a rickety old mansion that has an outdoor swimming pool, and an aviary. Being a bird lover, said aviary was right up his alley and Doris Meadows’, to where they quickly filled it to capacity with their feathered friends. They hired a cook, a housemaid, and a groundkeeper. These Doris Meadows still employs.”
Turner paused to sip whiskey. He reached for a fresh cigar and smiled. “Okay, to squash the doubt written on your kisser, my further snooping around discovered that no one seems to be aware of her inheritance. People think she gets her money from paintings. She’s a successful artist, makes about fifty grand a year. And there is no danger of anybody trying to marry her for her property. It’s the white elephant type, been on the no sale market for five years until old man Hamilton came along.”
“Okay, Turner, so far you’ve covered most of the angles. But here’s the big one. What makes you think she’ll tumble for me?”
“Oh hell, Stacey, you know damn will she’ll fall for you. Didn’t you once tell me that all women drip between their legs the moment they see you?”
Stacey laughed. “Yeah, I said that. I might have been bragging a little. Okay, so how do I meet the lady in what appears to be a normal way?”
Turner frowned. “At the moment I’m stymied. I’ll pay her a visit on the pretense that I have more legal bull con to talk over with her. Some angle we can use to get you on her doorstep might turn up for us. Right now, we need to get you situated. Grab your coat and bags. I’m taking you to a swank apartment. Once there we’ll prepare you for the courting of Doris Meadows.”
After a week of watching television soap operas, twiddling his thumbs, attempting to figure out crossword puzzles while guzzling whiskey, Stacey was next door to going nuts. Turner hadn’t stopped by or even called him on the phone. Where in the hell was
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